


A Matter of Life and Death

by Deannie



Series: Lord Stanley's Cup [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: 2003 Stanley Cup Playoffs, Stanley Cup fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1900398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No sir. You see, Game 7... well, it's <i>Game 7</i>, sir."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Life and Death

Jack O'Neill groaned, trying to figure out exactly what was happening. The memories trickled back, and he spent a long moment just reveling in the fact that he was alive. Which brought up a very important question. 

"Daniel?" Was that _his_ voice? It sounded weak and worn out. Of course, it would be, given the way he'd felt on PG4 916, right before he'd watched Sam and Daniel collapse on the sand in front of him. "Sam?" 

"Colonel O'Neill? Can you hear me, sir?" 

Dr. Fraiser. She sounded a little rough, didn't she? Sort of that I'm-a-doctor-I-have-to-be-professional kind of tone in a shaken, relieved voice. And it was muffled, too. Jack struggled to open his eyes, coming up with a blurry yellow blob for his troubles. 

"Colonel, you're back at the SGC," Fraiser's voice continued. "We've got you in quarantine, sir, but you're all going to be all right." 

All. They were _all_ going to be all right. Well that was something, anyway. 

"Teal'c?" he asked, wishing the yellow blob would clear itself up and solidify into something he could understand. What was yellow? He should know this. It was something that was supposed to make sense. 

"I am here, O'Neill." Well Teal'c sounded fine. Of course, Junior would have taken care of him, wouldn't he? "Major Carter and Daniel Jackson are still unconscious." 

Okay. But they were going to be all right, right? Hadn't Fraiser... _There you go!_ The yellow blob miraculously morphed into Janet Fraiser in a level three containment suit, and Jack's life started to make a bit more sense. They were back. And they were going to be fine. 

Right? 

He turned his head, looking briefly at the worried expression on Teal'c's face before his gaze slid over to the gurney next to his. Oxygen mask... Carter had an oxygen mask on her face. Yeah, well... better than a tube down her throat, huh? 

"The virus you were exposed to on 916 was incredibly fast-acting, sir," Fraiser's muffled voice continued, as Jack felt her probing at his arm with gloved fingers. "You've been unconscious for nearly a day." Jack's head spun around and he snorted in outrage as she dug a needle flawlessly into his vein. "We've managed to get the three of you stabilized, but I'm afraid you're stuck here for the duration." 

He just looked up at her, confused. 

"We're going to have to keep all four of you quarantined until we determine that the virus has finally played itself out." 

Jack nodded, his mind clearing a little more. He looked around the room, identifying it as one of the isolation labs. Not a great place to call home, but survivable. Give him a TV and a deck of cards... 

He looked up suddenly at the observation window high in the far wall, searching for and finding General Hammond, who stood silent with a grim look on his face as he surveyed the scene. 

"General?" He wasn't sure that weak little voice would reach far enough for the mics to pick up. 

"I'm here, Colonel," Hammond responded tightly, the wear of the last day showing plainly on his face. "Glad to see you awake, finally." 

"Sir, I need a favor." 

Hammond nodded. "Anything you need, Colonel," he assured him. 

"I need someone to go to my house and get something. And I need a television." 

The general looked perplexed. "A television?" 

Jack nodded. "And a tape from my house, sir." He tried that pleading look that always seemed to work... at least on Daniel. "Trust me when I say it's a matter of life and death." 

Hammond shook his head in exasperation. "All right, Colonel, just tell me what you need and I'll have it sent for." 

Jack leaned back, trying to catch his breath as Teal'c hovered. He looked over to his other side, to see Daniel snoozing away. He looked a little better than Carter did--at least he only had one of those itchy little oxygen tubes under his nose instead of the mask. The vital things were taken care of now, thanks to Fraiser and Teal'c. 

Now the really _important_ things had to be dealt with. 

* * * 

"Unbelievable!" 

Jack? 

Daniel pushed against the pounding in his skull, listening to Jack muttered excitedly nearby. He didn't feel good. It served to remind him that he was human again... but he didn't feel good. One good thing about being ascended--he never got the flu. And allergies had been a thing of the past... 

"I wish we'd been here last night--I could have watched it live!" 

"You _were_ here last night, Colonel." Janet? Muffled Janet. "Unfortunately for you, you were unconscious, running a fever of 107." A loud whoosh he couldn't identify. "I'm going to run these blood samples down to the lab now, sir." Another whoosh, and silence. 

A fever, huh? Right. Daniel tried to pull his scattered thoughts together. They'd been somewhere... off world... PG4 916? Deserted. And then he'd been dizzy... He turned his head just slightly. Whoa! _Really_ dizzy. 

"Sir?" Jack again, sounding rocky and tired, but with a thrill of cheer in his voice. Where was everybody else? Sam? Teal'c? Opening his eyes was going to hurt--he just knew it. Better to drift for a little while longer. 

"I think we're going to have a problem." 

"Colonel, I understand you'd rather be at home with a beer in your hand, but the quarantine stays in place." 

What? 

"Sir, you don't understand. We need another TV in here." 

A TV? Was Jack brain-damaged? Daniel thought fleetingly. Was _he_? 

"I don't understand, Colonel," Hammond replied testily. He was on a speaker phone? What the hell was going on? Daniel opened his eyes carefully, seeing nothing but a nondescript blur. Given the way his stomach and head responded to that simple action, turning his head was just not an option. He stared into the gray, trying to make sense of it all. 

"I am _sure_ one television is enough," Hammond continued. 

"No sir. You see, Game 7... well, it's _Game 7_ , sir." 

Game 7? Daniel tensed. 

"I hear what you're saying, Colonel," the general replied patiently. "But I don't understand why you need--" 

"They're _both_ playing to seven, sir," Jack replied, causing Daniel to blink rapidly, struggling to clear his vision. "And you can't have a TV in front of you and not watch, sir. It's... It's..." 

"Sacrilege," Daniel finished weakly. His sight hadn't quite cleared, but he risked turning his head anyway and was rewarded with a blurry vision of Jack in a bed next to his. 

"Hey, Danny!" Jack called brightly, though his voice was still that thready wisp. "Canucks, Blues--8:30 on ESPN2." 

Daniel nodded slowly as a warmth filled his heart. Way to go, Vancouver! "The Wild?" 

Jack's grinning face suddenly focused for him, the shine of a true fan in his eyes. "8. ESPN." 

Daniel looked around for the first time, taking in the isolation lab. As his eyes tracked up, he saw a television standing at the foot of Jack's bed with what must have been the post-game show from the night before. Teal'c was off to one side, meditating. Given Jack's mood, Daniel chose to assume that Sam was on Jack's other side, in a bed like his own, rather than... somewhere else. Not even for hockey would Jack neglect his _real_ team. 

Daniel took a deep, centering breath and looked up to the observation window, focusing on Hammond with difficulty. 

"Sir? We're really going to need another television." 

* * *  
The End


End file.
